Betoth av Serc
by xblaklitex
Summary: A Bosmer by heritage, but little else. Birthed to raise his family to a higher status and trained to do so through blood-shed and espionage, but has since decided to use his talents for his own gains. How far will this gets him? - My first published story that only Boethiah knows where it's heading and I'm just the one righting it down. Rated M.
"I cannot believe these people." The elf sighed running his hands over his scalp, the light from the setting sun glistening off of his shoulder length copper hair, the points of his ears just peeking through. He wished to continue complaining about the high and mightiness of the Jarl in Whiterun, but doing so while walking out his front door in front of all his guards; it didn't seem like a good idea, or so the cautious expression and darting eyes of his companion told him. Faendal was a good man to have around, the weariness that his leader lacked. They headed to the inn, their heels making no noise as they walked across the cobblestone and up the stairs of the Bannered Mare. He gave a small nod to a dark corner table where, Faendal getting the message, took a seat and waited.

"Hello again, my _Cirriel_." He purred, looking to the older Nord woman on the other side of the counter.

"Endras." She said coolly, though she betrayed her tone with her expression. Her eyes danced playfully and the corners of her mouth turned up slightly, though he pretended not to notice feigning hurt. "My darling, why the cold tone? Have I scorned you my dear?"

She sighed. "What is it you want, Endras? Actually, no. I can't afford any more free nights."

This time he really was surprised, though he did not show it. He smirked and looked down to the bar. "Oh, is that all, my dear? You have indeed given me more than I should have asked for and more than I deserved." He looked back up at her from underneath his eyelashes. He took her hand in his, startling her. "For that, I thank you. I also feel I must apologize, I feel I abused your hospitality, and possible your heart." He kissed her knuckles, not breaking eye contact. The corners of her mouth turning into a gentle smile, a small blush gracing her cheeks. She looked guarded still, determined not to gift him another drop, though he did not expect her to.

He pulled a small coin purse from the inside of his belt. "Alright, my _Cirriel_ , two bottles of mead each for me and my friend and a room for the night," He leaned in over the counter and spoke low and silkily. "As well as two bottles of your favorite wine." She smiled again, thinking he was simply buying her a few drinks, but her smile dropped quickly as his gaze showed he desired to do much more then that. She pulled the mead out from under the counter and before she could set them down, his hands covered hers gently, brushing across them as he looked into her eyes, unwavering and slipped the bottles out from her now weak grasp. He smiled and gave a small nod in thanks before he turned to return to his table, leaving the coin purse on the counter. He placed the mead on the table as he headed into the backroom that served as a kind of kitchen and threw a few hunks of meat on the spit before hacking a few slices off of one already cooked and placed it onto a plate, and took it to the table for Faendal. The sweet Nord woman gave him a look from over the bar, he shrugged brows raised and gave a nod to the coin purse still in her hand, before finally sitting down.

"What was that all about? Planning on getting into trouble?" Faendal spoke disapprovingly as he uncorked his first bottle.

Endras, already in the middle of his first swig, looked at him brows high. "Have you ever known me to have gotten into trouble? Now, I've started trouble, but getting into trouble would require getting caught." Faendal gave a disapproving glance, brows furrowed from over his bottle.

"Dodging the question? Yes, yes I am. It's not like she's married or anything. It's not trouble. I plan on us leaving this area tomorrow morning anyway, unless you'd rather go home? I'm sure Camilla would like to see you." Endras spoke lightly, hoping bringing up the love of his companion would distract from his further dodging, as he took another swig from his first bottle. He waved his hand over the wick of the candle sitting at their table to ignite it, before glanced over at his friend who was no longer paying him any mind. "Faendal." The silvered elf looked over, mulling a fresh bite, surprised to find a sheepish look on his companion. "To be honest with you, I would not mind if you left. You have taught me much, but I would prefer if you didn't grow to, well, dislike me. I feel our natures are, contradictory."

Faendal looked away, and began to speak slowly. "It has been, what, almost a month since I've been home." His eyes looked dreamy. "Camilla." He spoke almost inaudibly.

Hours passed as Faendal ate and they drank in further silence. It wasn't because they didn't have anything to talk of, but because they enjoyed silence, though it wasn't in the cozy pub at this time of night. The gentle murmur and occasional clink of flagons against tables had it's own special ambiance though. They only spoke when it was necessary, and that wasn't often with them both understanding physical language. The first instance was when he attempted to see where the tanned elf's interests lie. The quickness of Faendal's understanding of the others feminine approach is what set them as partners, despite being turned down before being given a chance.

That's usually how their 'conversations' go, Endras gives a look to something or someone, either desire or distaste, which is promptly met by some kind of look from Faendal that usually involved a wrinkled forehead and down turned brows. It was quite charming, but there was a growing tension between them now. Faendal could only put up with so much, and Endras could barely keep himself out of noble's pockets. Passing up marks was starting to bother him, all that missed gold and trinkets, but he knew anything truly illegal would drive his follower away. Even the little things now, like charming favors from strangers, was beginning to bother the silvered elf.

"So, you want me to leave before I have any further reason to dislike you." Faendal finally breaking the silence between them.

Again, a sheepish look spread across the copper-headed Bosmer. "I know it's odd, but there are not many of us in these lands, at least that aren't bandits. In you, I've found a brother, kin, with whom I can have a civil conversation if I wish. I don't want to risk that by letting you find out how big of an ass I am." He spoke sincerely.

Faendal scoffed, nursing his second bottle, his expression softer. "I can understand that. And I agree, you- we, are definitely different. Though the thought of you running around without a leash is certainly not comforting."

Endras chuckled. "Relax, _Celenaynadan_. I'm sure I'll grow out of it eventually. Maybe." He grinned at Faendal's thin-lipped expression. "Besides, it's hardly fare for me to make you hold that leash. Especially when I'm pulling on it all the time. You need a break from me. Go spend some time with your _parwen_." At this, Faendal blushed deeply.

The bar began to empty as the hours crept by. Endras stood, finishing off his last bottle. "I rented a room for the night, it's yours if you wish to stay until morning."

Faendal gave a small smile. "Sure. I'll be leaving early, I'll need to hunt for supplies to restock my cabin, I'm sure most everything I left there has spoiled. I'll say goodbye now, since I doubt you'll be up by then." Flashing his glance at the woman behind the counter. Endras grinned and took Faendal's outstretched arm, squeezing his forearm in farewell before heading over to the bar while Faendal headed up the stairs to rest.

" _Cirriel_." Endras purred huskily as he walked around the bar, arms held open, taking her wrists in his hands, firmly yet gentle. She was again, surprised, pulling away slightly, before being held captive in his gaze.

Hulda looked puzzled. "What is that you keep calling me?" He lifted her hands to his face, brushing his lips across her fingers.

" _Cirriel_." He purred as he ran his fingers through her hair. "'Beauty of Amber' roughly, in Bosmer's tongue." At this she blushed slightly. He chuckled. "My, are you truly this easy to fluster? Surely you have had many suitors at your window?"

She smiled, "Yes, when I was a younger woman."

"Ah." He nodded. "It is a shame they would halt their advances as punishment for allowing a year or two to slip by." He placed her hand on his shoulder before caressing her cheek with his fingers, tracing her lips with his thumb. "You are still so lovely." He spoke softly as he admired her features. Her skin was marked from living in such a harsh land her whole life, but her lips were smooth and supple dispite her age, and her eyes, almond shaped and narrow, reminded him of many a shrewd elf.

Still holding her other hand, he wrapped his arm around her waist, pinning her to him before teasing her lips with his, gracing her face with nips on her jaw and neck. She gasped, small tremmers running through her body. She began to press into him telling him now was the time to release her. He stepped away, the woman's face bright with blood, confused.

"Not here." He said gruffly, running his fingers through his hair. "The wine, _Cirriel_. Let us move somewhere a bit more private, hm?"

The woman looked so nervous, but desiring. She placed the bottles on her small table before he came behind her wrapping his arms around her middle causing her to gasp as he buried his head in her neck, nipping and suckling at her flesh. Her body quaked as his fingers slipped across her body, untying the cords that held her vest to her body. Slipping it off her shoulders, as he turned her towards him. Her breathing was shallow but quick, still that worried look on her face. He lifted her chin with a delicate hand, forcing her to look at him.

"Do you wish me to stop?" His voice like velvet, as he caressed her. "I would understand, many women of Skyrim would have second thoughts about opening themselves to an elf." She looked surprised, taking hold of the hand on her chin.

"No, it- it's just." She pursed her lips. "It has been-" He cut her off kissing her deeply, pressing her into the small table as he untied the last few cords that kept her flesh away from him. He broke from her lips to pull his shirt from his back, allowing her a moment to admire his physic before kissing at her collarbone, trailing lower until he came to her breasts, lapping at the erect flesh on her bosom, providing the other with irregular flicks from his thumb, each one coaxing a sigh or wine from the woman. Soon she began fumbling with the drawstrings of his breaches, until they slid down his legs to the floor. He flung them across the room before admiring being admired as his splayed victim stared at his growth hungrily. He lifted her further onto the table and lined himself between her legs, massaging her mound with his member. Her body twitched, her breathing becoming labored.

" _Wing_. Easy." He whispered to her sweetly, his hands massaging her sides as he wrapped his arms around her back burying his face in her neck until her breath came more easy. He lifted her and carried her to her bed, seating her just at the edge as he settled himself on his knees. She looked confused at first, until his tongue first tickled at the bundle of nerves at her center. She gasped surprised, electricity and heat running through her body. He looked up at her, amused at her surprise that soon melted away into shear pleasure. She soon lost herself, eyes sealed shut, crying out, unable to see what he was doing other than pleasuring her.

Once she was steady again, he guided her onto her hands and knees her head over the end of the bed. She found she was staring into the open mouth of a bucket. She began to hear a strange gurgling noise and started to lose consciousness before realizing her throat had been cut. He knotted his fingers in her hair to hold her steady, trying to get as much of the blood as he could into the bucket. She tried to gasp, but instead of air, blood filled her lungs, though she soon went limp.

Once she had bled as dry as he could make her, he dressed himself in his leathers before helping himself to the wine. "This was her favorite?" He shrugged pouring some into a few empty bottles he carried with him, then began distributing the blood amongst them. He sniffed at the mixture and took a swig. Pleased with his first batch, he continued adding blood to wine until the bucket lay empty. Next, dagger in hand, he began his work as a butcher. He slashing under the arms, driving the dagger deep to pop the arm from the joint, and sawed at the flesh until it fell into the bucket. He did this again with the second arm, and something similar with the legs. He packed the corpse tightly into a pack and headed out, meandering around the side of the inn and behind the alchemy shop to the small house. He allowed himself inside, the door unlocked.

"So it's done then?" The young red-haired woman spoke softly, voice quivering. He dropped his pack on the floor and opened the flap, the woman turning as pale as the corpse that stared up at her with glass eyes. "Gods." She swore under her breath. He smiled with dry amusement. "What? This is what you payed for. Well, maybe not quite this, but ask a Bosmer, this is what you get."

Ysolda nodded, a bit green. "I know. Your people are known to have certain tastes, but I-I just didn't expect-" "You didn't think I would force you to bare witness to your doing?"

She blinked, taken aback, and shook her head. He scoffed. "If all I did was make someone disappear when someone asked and threw some gold at me, I would be much too busy. And probably very fat." She made a sound of discussed, to Endras' annoyance.

"If that is going to be your response to my help and habits, I suggest you head over to your new home. I have to prepare the corpse, and your shack on the outskirts of town will serve me well." He reaching in and grabbing a wrist. "Be warned, there is a bit of a mess," He smirked hungrily as he pulled out an arm, still warm and slightly pink. "there aren't any pieces though." Ysolda covered her mouth, suppressing a dry heave as she stared horrified at the dripping socket before nodding and running out the door. He grinned monstrously. "So squeamish."

He began to dress the corpse now, dividing the flesh into roasts, steaks, and other choice cuts. Lastly, he opened the guts, cleaned them, and set them to boil with the other select organs, stewing them while he slept for the rest of the day, the familiar sent bringing him pleasant dreams of Valenwood.

It was either very late or very early when he finally awoke. He packed up the bones and raw flesh before helping himself to some of the stew before poring the rest into empty flasks, and heading over to visit yet another brother. "Greetings kinsman." Endras grinned at the always friendly Bosmer behind the counter. "I have a rare treat for you, Adan." He opened the pack, filling the main room with the sent of fresh flesh. To anyone else, it would simply smell like sweet meat, perhaps a young deer, but to these Bosmer, and probably Jenassa, it was something much more pleasing.

"Mm-my. And where did you come by such a delicacy, hm? Wait, never mind, I don't want to know."

"No, you probably don't. But it's clean and fresh."

"Excellent. How much are you willing to sell? Anoriath has been feeling a bit homesick, and this will surely help."

"Hm." Endras thought for a moment. "I suppose I could part with all of it, actually. I plan on traveling, so I'll have many more chances to hunt." Elrindir looked pleased, especially so when he saw the cuts available to him. "I may need a new pack though, this one has gotten a bit, messy."

Elrindir chuckled, purring. "Naturally, friend. Take your pick, though, I have one that you may be particularly interested in." With this, the seller turned to pick through a chest, pulling out what looked like a simple pack. "Here. Feel the leather." Endras pinched a strap between his fingers.

"It's slick. Treated with-" He sniffed at the strap. "What, horker fat?"

"Mixed with either powdered ice wraith teeth or frost salts, whichever we have at the time." He spoke matter-of-factly, like he did when he was excited. "It's a technique my brother learned on one of his more recent extended excursions." He spoke those last words with a little irritation.

"Well, at least he got something useful out of it."

"Exactly my thinking." The shop-keeps obvious pleasure in finding someone that says what he wants to hear made Endras smirk. The vendor continued. "The fat keeps the blood and grit from sticking, soaking in, or causing a lingering odor. The powdered teeth keeps the meat fresh for longer, as does the frost salts, but it adds a bit of a flavor."

Endras' brows turned into hard lines. "Hm, and how much would such a fantastic huntsman's bag go for?"

At this, the store owner almost looked genuinely hurt. "My dear friend, I couldn't ask for your gold for something like this. Though-" The elf put his finger to his chin in faux-thought. "Perhaps we could exchange gifts? As kin."

Endras smiled dryly. "Why, but of course! What a lovely idea, Adan. And perhaps if I'm nearby while on another such profitable hunt? Perhaps I can bring more 'gifts' until I feel this bag is paid off."

The teller chuckled. "Oh, don't worry, I'll be sure to let you know when that day comes." Endras gave an irritated look, pouting, which only further amused the other Bosmer.

"Well, here's a little something else, I have too much just for me." Endras pushed all but one of the blood wine bottles over to the far side of the counter as he transferred some of the contents from his old bag to the new.

"My my! You are full of pleasant surprises, friend." Elrindir sniffed at the mixture, though he looked a bit less pleased after taking a swig.

"It's not that bad, Adan, though I agree, the wine could have been better. I'll try it again with some ale maybe. Not much good wine in Skyrim."

"Ale?" An unsure look came to the mer's eye. "Well, purhaps. An interesting idea to say the least."

Endras shrugged. "I'll play around with it on the road." He spoke while leaving the shop. "Farewell."

"Anytime, kinsman."

* * *

Italics represent elven languages

Bosmeris and Aldmeris used in this chapter:

Cirriel - Compound 'Cir'-'amber' and 'Riel'-'beauty'

Celenaynadan - Compound 'Celenahn'-'silver-haired' and 'Adan'-'man, male'

Wing - breath

 **Any constructive feedback is greatly appreciated.**


End file.
